


Internal Rebellion

by TheMulletWhisperer



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cyrodiil, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/F, Lesbian Character, References to Oblivion, Revenge, Slow Burn, Takes place roughly at the same time as Skyrim, Thalmor, War, Wilderness Survival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2019-10-08 07:46:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17382569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMulletWhisperer/pseuds/TheMulletWhisperer
Summary: Soldiers take an oath, but what happens when that oath is wrong? As Alessia loses someone dear to the Thalmor--the puppetmasters of the Empire--she must grapple with ideals she's held for her entire life against the hatred inside of her. However, as an abhorrent undead creature enters her life, she finds that perhaps she's wrong about more things than one.





	1. Loss of Control

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honestly not sure what the hell just happened to me. I went into some kind of trance and wrote this. The first chapter is in a different style than the rest of them will be, this was sort of a set up chapter. I know it's a bit confusing but we'll go more in depth as the story goes on!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A crime, a disaster, a loss that sets in motion a chain of events that will forever change Alessia's life

“Open it now, by Auri-El!” The elf shouted as a crossbow’s bolt found its home in the heart of one of the justiciars that flanked him. All at once, a flash of purple light lit the nearby river and blinded any who watched. A final bolt, inches from its target, sailed through the air and bounced harmlessly off of the stone post. 

“Fuck! No!” Alessia screamed and threw her weapon at the empty ground in front of her. Two Thalmor soldiers lay dead in the Cheydinhal grass, blood seeping into the dirt, eyes glazed and mouths a dark crimson. All that remained of her attempt to save Rusia. 

As her breath rattled she collapsed to her hands and knees, tears stinging at her eyes and pack weighing heavier than ever as the amulet hung from its side. She took her crossbow back, leaning onto her haunches and running her fingers over the embossed emblem of the Imperial dragon, her mind racing. 

The sound of armored boots against the cobblestones brought her back to reality. She’d killed two Thalmor. Quickly she stood, collecting her bolts from the corpses and diving behind the wall of the graveyard, pressing herself flush against the cold stone as the guardsmen passed. 

“Spread out, find them!” The man barked, accompanied by the frantic scurrying of the soldiers around him. Panting, panicked whispering, angry shouts. What had she done? Nobody here would be safe now and she knew it. 

Slowly, Alessia crept along the inner wall, keeping her head ducked beyond the top as more and more guardsmen arrived. The streets were empty, it was dark. She couldn’t just walk away. Besides, the blood on her face would give her away the moment anyone saw her. Several seconds passed before the footsteps faded across the waterway the split the heart of Cheydinhal. 

She ducked into the Great Chapel, shutting the doors quietly behind her. The inside was dark but the candles that surrounded the altar in the center of the room were still lit, albeit slowly dying. The chapel proper was mercifully empty, leaving nobody to reveal her.

The weight of the night’s events came crashing down on Alessia like a sack of bricks had been fastened to her shoulders, but she wasn’t out of this yet and she’d be damned if she was going to die in some prison while the Thalmor held Rusia. 

Despite her weighty pack her training kept her quiet as she descended the stairs and came face to face with the door to the priest’s quarters. For a moment she hesitated, hoping the man would take pity and shelter her. But no, the Thalmor had a death grip on the people of the city, and she refused to put anyone else in danger. She turned to the undercroft doors, fishing a rake and wrench from her satchel. Carefully, she slotted them into the lock and applied tension to the wrench, pulling the rake back and forth until the pins clicked and allowed her access.

Alessia closed the door with care, waiting for the lock to click once again before she allowed herself to let out a breath and descend deeper into the chapel’s tombs. It wasn’t exactly the cheeriest or even safest place, but the blessings of the Divines were upon her. She hoped, at the least. 

She set her pack down, producing a tinderbox and shaking its contents out into her hand, using them to light the various candles scattered about. They produced a lovely incense aroma, likely to mask the smell of death and decay. Next she unclasped the bedroll from the side, rolling it out onto the ground against one of the far walls—the farthest away from the fresh bodies she could manage—and shifted her pack against the foot. Finally, her amulet came out. Kynareth, goddess of the skies and the winds, patron of travelers not unlike Alessia and holy Divine. With luck it would protect her from any spirits she may have disturbed with her intrusion. 

As she sat back, prepared to feel safe once again, the glint of another amulet buried within the contents of her backpack caught her eye and it all came flooding back through her. As her heart swelled and her stomach sank, the only release she found was to cry, hugging her knees to her chest and retrieving the Amulet of Talos. It was the only memento she had left of Rusia now. All those years and she’d never thought to take something else and never more did she regret that than this very moment. 

Seconds turned into minutes which turned into hours as she cried, eventually drifting off to sleep in her armor, amulet of Kynareth in one hand and Talos in the other. Through the night and in her sleep she thought, she tossed and turned and eventually she awoke, reassured and adamant. Though she may lose what little was left, though she may be arrested and killed, the Thalmor would pay for their crimes against her, against Rusia, and against the Empire.

She stood, eyes swollen and red, and packed up her things, clasping the amulet of Kynareth around her neck and tucking away the heretical amulet deep in her pack. Although she couldn’t see the light, it was likely early morning; just early enough for her to slip away into the crowd of soldiers returning to the fort from a long night at the tavern. 

Surely enough, as she stepped from the musty air of the undercroft and into the chapel, colored light streamed through the stained glass of the windows and illuminated the altar almost too perfectly. Perhaps a sign from the Divines, perhaps a coincidence, but she would rather believe. Nonetheless, the chapel was empty save for early-morning pilgrims who had likely just come in to the city. 

Alessia slipped through the front doors, falling in step with the various Legionnaries who trudged along. A cursory glance behind her spoke to the fact that the bodies had been cleaned up by the guard, though the investigation was still ongoing. None of them were quite brave enough to stop any of the soldiers for questioning though. 

Once she’d stepped through the grand gates she made for the stables, shifting the burden of her pack from her to her horse as she mounted the saddle, taking the reins and tapping her heels against its sides. At once, they were off.

Her night had been long and she had yet to process its events properly. But until then she had an old friend to visit.


	2. Snowblind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hatred that still burns strong in Alessia's heart leads her to rescue a forlorn traveler from a horrific fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chugging right along. Enjoy, my friends!

The calm, temperate basin of the Valus mountains soon became a shrill wind singing against her ears through the hood pulled tightly over her head, the cold of the Jeralls burning against her cheeks and nose. Although she fitted her mask just below her eyes, the wind still bit and nipped at her face. Still, she carried forward, spurring her horse to a trot.

Although the immediate area was clear and the Jeralls were relatively safe, even against the civil war in the north, she watched like a hawk on the hunt for any suspicious movements or out-of-place tracks in the fresh-fallen snow. 

As she passed the road’s intersection the sounds of cruel laughter reached her ears. It wasn’t an uncommon sound on the roads. Bandits and other miscreants had run wild ever since the guards had cut back on policing the main roads, but this was different. Familiar. 

“Fuck.” Alessia whispered, pulling her horse to a stop and sliding off its back as quietly as she could. Hoping to move a bit quieter in the near-silent forests, she left her pack behind next to the saddlebags, bringing from it only her hunting dagger in case she needed to fight up close. 

She crept to the treeline, shouldering her crossbow from her back and checking the bolt’s seating. As soon as she was satisfied she moved deeper into the snowy terrain, the frozen powder spilling over the rims of her fur-lined boots and soaking the fibers just enough to be felt. Even so, she ignored the discomfort and covered behind a nearby tree as the laughter in question grew nearer. 

“Poor little corpse got caught in the sunlight, did it?” One of the voices spoke. Thalmor, unmistakably. Alessia had spent enough time around them to know what they sounded like, as well as their own brand of taunting. The mere sound was enough to set a fire behind her eyes but she remained calm, peeking out from her hiding spot. 

It looked—from the distance—that they’d cornered some unsuspecting traveller who made the mistake of standing out against the cold. From her place she could only see their black cloak, but that was enough to spur on any particularly sadistic justiciar. The soldiers themselves numbered only three justiciars, plenty enough to take on herself if she was smart about it. 

Carefully she lifted her crossbow and levelled it at the leader, who seemed to be winding up for a kick. Before he could, however, a bolt tore through his armor and landed, blood-soaked, in the snow before him. The other two took their turns exchanging a shocked look as their leader collapsed before another bolt buried itself in the temple of the second elf, shattering the brittle moonstone of his helmet and sending him crumpled to the ground. The final man seemed more prepared, flinging a fireball in Alessia’s general direction. Unfortunately for him, she’d already moved, jumping out from behind a nearby tree and sliding her knife cleanly into the base of his skull, kiilling him instantly. 

Once certain that all three were dead, the Imperial sheathed her weapons and rushed to the side of the traveller, helping her to her feet. “Are you alright, miss?” She spoke in a soft voice, peering beneath her hood. From what she could see the woman was pale as the snow around them, but even worse was frozen to the touch. No doubt suffering from frostbite and gods-know what else. 

“I’m fine.” The rescued soul shivered out, clinging to Alessia’s warmth. “W-who are you?” Her voice was soft and light, almost soothing in its calm. Even so, Alessia wasn’t convinced. 

“I’m a soldier of the Imperial Legion.” She stated matter-of-factly, almost mechanically, before she began leading her back to the main road. “You’re freezing, we need to get you help.” She spoke to the woman as they returned to the roads. 

“No, don’t. I’m fine.” The mystery woman muttered, though the persistent shiver in her voice gave her away. At the very least she was suffering a case of hypothermia, not to mention whatever those Thalmor may have inflicted upon her. 

“You aren’t.” Alessia spoke firmly, letting go of the woman for a moment to produce a thick, tightly-folded fur cloak from her saddlebag. “I’ll take you to the garrison at the Pale Pass, Bruma’s too conspicuous.” She mumbled, half to herself, as she helped the woman onto the horse. 

“I don’t need your help.” The woman stated, more firmly this time, but still didn’t refuse the help getting on the horse.

“With all due respect, ma’am, I’ve spent the last ten years out here in the wilderness, I know what it looks like when someone needs help.” Alessia clambered up in front of her, properly seating herself. “We need to go fast, I need you to hold on.”

The traveller remained still just long enough for Alessia to think she was dead before she felt surprisingly strong arms wrap around her waist. For a moment she allowed herself to blush, caught off guard by the feeling before she snapped back to reality and cracked the reins, kicking her heels against the horse's sides. At once, the two were off, galloping at breathtaking speeds against the frigid winds of the Jerall mountains.

The air itself was painful against her uncovered face, but the woman at her back kept her from slowing the pace. Ice bit at her face and a gale whipped her cheeks raw, tears from her dry eyes freezing on her face. Snowflakes clung to her brows and lashes with a death grip but she refused to stop, blowing past the walls of Bruma, beyond the watchful eyes of the Sentinel and the crags of Dragonclaw Rock. Only when the sturdy walls of the garrison peeked above the swell of the road did she pull her steed to a stop. 

The woman's grip had weakened considerably, Alessia could feel strength waning from the both of them. With quaking arms she jumped from the back of the horse and brought with her the traveller as a pair of soldiers approached the commotion. 

“Oh shit. Marcellus, stoke the fire and alert the Legate!” The senior officer barked his order and rushed to support the two frozen women. “Come on praefect, stay with me.” He muttered, the last words to reach Alessia's ears before her vision went white.


	3. Hearthfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rescued from certain death, Serana attempts to keep another from descending upon her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit shorter than I'd hoped but I had to power through a writer's block so I could get to the next chapter. Enjoy, and I promise the next will be longer!

Serana watched as the soldier that had rescued her collapsed against the Legate. If she, a vampire, were so cold in this air, it was hard to imagine how her savior wasn't dead. 

Still, there was more to worry about than just one person. She turned her eyes to the ground in the hopes that nobody would spot the fiery gleam of her irises. Powerful as she was, she wouldn't last a moment if an entire garrison decided the vampire wasn't welcome. 

Although she wanted to run, to cut away before anything happened, her legs refused to work, numb to the bone from the vicious winter conditions of the mountains. Perhaps she'd have a moment to see the disgust in her rescuer's eyes before she was cut down for being an abomination. 

The hellish cut of the sun and piercing cold of the mountains became a warm, dark fortress hallway. From the room before her she could see a roaring fire seated within the fireplace in the room's center. 

The officer let Serana go as he attended to the unconscious soldier, leaving her to crawl up to the fire as close as she could manage without catching it herself. She slumped her shoulder against the frame and let out a shivering sigh of exhaustion as the burning heat reddened her snow-pale face. 

As she felt the strength return to her—however slightly—she spared a proper glance at her rescuer. Despite the blankets she was bundled in, the vampire could make out her face. The soldier was clearly an Imperial through and through. Sharp features, a jawline that could cut glass, eyes of amber and the tough, pale skin of someone who had spent their time under the constant clouds of a snowstorm. Her nose merged nearly seamlessly with her brow, however a break in the sellion marred the blend. 

Serana blinked, catching herself staring and turning her attention back to the fire and allowing her heavy eyelids to fall closed. Before she could fall asleep, however, a hand jolted her from her near-rest. “Hmm? Yes?” She turned to face the officer who'd brought the two to their final respite, tilting her chin down to hide her eyes behind the shadow of her hood. 

“I apologize, miss…” The man paused, lifting a brow to her in question. She rolled the question about in her head for a moment in quiet contemplation before settling on simply being honest. It was doubtful anyone here would know her name, especially after Harkon. 

“Serana.” She spoke, surprising herself in the weakness of her voice. Clearly she needed the help more than she'd imagined.

“Miss Serana.” The man bowed his head to her. “I am Tribune Felix. The praefect will likely not awaken for several more hours, we are going to move her to the barracks. We have prepared a bed for you as well, should you wish.”

For a split second she thought to refuse the offer and be on her way, but as her head grew heavy as lead and her shoulders sagged she knew that leaving would not be an option without significant rest.

Serana nodded, pushing herself shakily to her feet and wrapping her arms around her chest. Though the cold was gone she still found herself shivering as the ice clung to her very bones. “Thank you. Where do I go?” She looked around the room to the many passages away. 

Felix stood and ensured she wouldn't fall over before answering her question, pointing to the door in the far right corner. “Just go through there, your bed is the one with extra furs.” 

She nodded and began forward but paused as her foot bumped her rescuer's. Serana looked down at her unconscious form before turning her attention to Felix. “Is she going to be okay?” Her question was unsure as she struggled to find her own reason for asking it. 

“Praefect Alessia has been through far worse than this, she will be fine by morning.” The Tribune's voice was familiar and casual as he spoke about her, though nothing more than friendly.

Serana nodded and tucked that name away into the back of her mind for when she was pleading for her life at the end of an Imperial sword. For now, though, she crossed the room and passed through the indicated door and approached the bed stacked in furs. Never before had she been happy to see a rickety cot in her life. 

She threw back the furs and slipped herself underneath, curling up on the hard pillow and once again letting her eyes fall shut. This time she was not disturbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Edit on March 1st, 2019) Don't worry, this isn't dead. I'm just struggling with a part of the next chapter!


	4. Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alessia formulates a plan to help the mysterious woman she rescued, with the help of an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I've updated this so sorry in advance. This one is not going to be very good because it was my "Break through the writer's block" chapter. It's pretty much all just poorly-written dialogue so enjoy!

Alessia awoke with a shiver, the heavy weight of countless furs weighing pleasantly over her entire body. Memory of the cold kept her from becoming as comfortable as hoped to be, but the sleep saw the strength flooding back to her body. 

Although she wanted nothing more than to simply roll over and go back to sleep, there was something far more important to discuss with the Legate. Hesitantly she slid out of the cot, slipping her boots back on and grabbing the hood that hung from the bedpost. 

The standard issue was hardly comfortable, but years of wear and personal modification made it perfectly satisfactory. Most of the under-armor had been lined with a layer of wolf fur and the sleeves stitched tightly to deter the cold. Still, sometimes that wasn't enough to keep herself protected as the previous day's events had proven, especially in northern climates. 

Alessia slipped out of the barracks alongside the soldiers on the early morning shift and made her way across the common room to the Legate's door. Confidently and without warning, she pushed into the room. 

Casius stood before his desk, back turned to the door as he shuffled through a particularly large stack of papers. As the door clicked shut he spoke up, “You should really be asleep with your friend, Alessia.” His voice was light but the stress that seeped in was undeniable. 

She took a breath to respond but found her words caught in her throat. At a loss for words, she took a step forward, casting her eyes to the ground. A moment of silence passed before she found the strength to speak. “They took Rusia.” Her voice was a near whisper but it was enough to get the Legate's attention. He whipped around, letting the papers fall to the ground as he approached her. 

“They did what?!” Anger flooded his voice as he spoke, a stark contrast to the quiet tears that threatened to spill from Alessia's eyes. “Dammit! How did they find out?” Casius pressed his palm to his forehead, pressing his eyes shut and trying to calm himself. 

“I don't know. I was out with her in Cheydinhal and the next…” She trailed off in an attempt to compose herself before continuing. “I killed two of the justicars but the Inquisitor got away with her. They didn't see me, don't worry.” Alessia reassured at the Legate's worried look. 

“Did she know anything? This could sink us, Alessia.” He returned to his desk, digging through the drawers frantically for some thing or another, she never knew what.

“That's what you're worried about?” She looked up to him with a scowl, hardly able to process the lack of empathy on display. 

Casius paused for a moment before he continued, producing a set of passage papers and looking them over. “This goes further than her, if she knew anything…” he trailed off as he gave a pointed glance to his colleague. “I’m sorry about your sister Alessia, but the Thalmor are going to do a lot worse to the two of us if they catch us out.” 

Alessia sighed, wiping away her tears as she composed herself. “No, you’re right, I know. I’m… she didn’t know anything, we kept her in the dark. We’re safe, but she  _ isn’t _ .” She spoke emphatically, approaching the desk and splaying her fingers over the surface as her mind raced. Since her depature she’d been trying to keep the incident out of her mind until she could do something about it, but now that she could, she found herself at a loss unlike any other she’d experienced.

Casius nodded warily and collected the passage papers once again, tucking them away beneath a false bottom in one of his many drawers. A moment of somber silence passed between them before he spoke up again. “I’m sorry, Alessia, if I’d seen this coming…” He paused for a moment before he continued, “What about your friend in there, does she have something to do with this?” 

Alessia sighed and shook her head. “No, I rescued her from the Thalmor, I guess they caught her out cold in the snow, she was almost frozen by the time I got to her. I was supposed to be going to Bruma but… well, I couldn’t well bring a fugitive to Bruma.” She shrugged and turned around to glance at the door, thinking back to the fleeting glance she’d caught of the beautiful woman, the hold of her arms. Gods, she’d been  _ far  _ too long without someone’s touch.

She shook the fog from her head and turned back to Casius, returning his odd look with a subtle scowl. “I’ll take her to Isobel, I’m going to see her anyway. Will you be okay here?” Alessia rubbed the back of her neck, still half lost in thought even as she spoke. 

“I always have been. If I hear anything I’ll be sure to let you know, I promise.” Casius reassured her as he pulled up his chair and sat down at the desk. “I’ve got a lot to do here, feel free to stay for breakfast.” He waved her away just as quickly as he’d brought her in, evidently eager to get to his paperwork.

Alessia nodded and exited the room silently, shutting the door behind her and making once again for the barracks in search of the woman she’d rescued. 

The rest of the soldiers had just begun rising from their bunks as she returned. Although the bustle was familiar to her, she'd become far more accustomed to the isolation of the wilderness. Even now she was eager to get this woman to safety and be on her own again. 

She approached the lump on the only remaining occupied cot, clearing her throat. “Excuse me, ma'am.” Her voice was soft, but loud enough to rouse the woman from her sleep—or so she thought. Instead she simply lay unmoving beneath the furs as if dead. 

“Ma'am?” She spoke again, this time a bit louder. Silence once again hung over the two before her charge stirred with a groan, shifting beneath the furs and poking her head out. 

“Mmmn? Is something wrong?” The woman muttered, running a gloved hand down her pale face and squinting up at Alessia. 

With a slight sigh of relief, the soldier offered her hand out as she spoke, “We need to get moving, I’m afraid. I have someone I can take you to for protection.”

The woman shook her head, sitting upright and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, watching as Alessia retracted her hand. “I can take care of myself. Thanks for rescuing me but I shouldn’t stick around.” She threw back the furs and stood up, keeping her chin tilted down and stretching. 

“I take it you aren’t from Cyrodiil.” Alessia spoke pointedly, tilting her chin up and staring at whatever she could catch of the woman’s bright eyes. The hungry glint unnerved her, and the orange irises certainly weren’t natural.

“I’m not sure what that has to do with anything.” The mysterious woman furrowed her brow, tilting her head in the direction of the soldier.

Alessia nodded, shouldering her pack further. “You made an enemy of the Thalmor by escaping from them, miss. It’s protocol to send back a runner with a description of any prisoner one of their patrols take. They’ll be on you like fleshflies on a dead elk the moment you step out of this fort. We need to get you out of here.” She paused for a moment. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever caught you name.”

The woman sighed. “I’m Serana, and I told you I can deal with it. I’m not here to sightsee, I’ve got something to do.” She collected her things and slung the strap of the bag over her shoulder.

Alessia took a step forward, “Then at least come with me to see this person, we can try to pull suspicion off of you.” At this point, she was desperate to keep the person she’d saved alive.

Serana sighed heavily, holding her hands up. “Alright, alright, if it’ll make you happy. Where are we going?” 

“Bruma.”

“I thought Bruma was full of Thalmor?”

Alessia turned to leave the room, beckoning for her newfound companion to follow along. “They are, but it’s early morning and the prissy little bastards don’t start their heretic hunts until mid-morning. If we go now we can slip past them.” She took her cloak from the peg near the door, fastening it over her neck and pulling up the hood. “Do you have a cloak? It won’t be as cold in the sun but it’ll still be a bastard.”

Serana nodded and produced a thick fold of fabric from her satchel, shaking it loose into a full—albeit thin—cloak and following suit to Alessia.

Satisfied, the soldier pushed out into the morning sun, the snow falling lightly at her feet and the sun filtering through the sparse branches of the nearby mountain trees. The bustle of the early shift along the walls told her that news had spread of the previous night’s excitement, and that their venerable overlords would be arriving soon to investigate as was always the case. 

Trailing far behind her, Serana seemed stiff in the sun, keeping well out of sight of the soldiers and hiding her face from the others as well as she could.

Divines, what had she stepped in?


	5. City of the Jeralls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Through the cold north the two ride, couriers of somber news, a journey to kickstart that which would scar Cyrodiil forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took a fucking while. The chapter is extra long to compensate for my slackitude but otherwise I don't really have an excuse. The last couple of paragraphs might be slightly inconsistent with the quality of the rest of the the story since I forced them out but I definitely tried. 
> 
> Shifts in character perspective are marked with an "A" (Alessia) or an "S" (Serana).
> 
> Hope you enjoy, comments are always greatly appreciated!

* * *

 

**** **S**

The rhythmic beat of the horse's hoovesreverberated off the mountain walls that surrounded the pair as they rode through the pale pass. Just above the rock face to their left the sun shimmered, casting beautiful rays of light over the road ahead of them. Golden light bounced off the raven-black hair of the woman sitting in front of Serana, carefully guiding the horse with a more precise hand than a regular soldier. 

Same as the night prior, Serana held onto the woman by the waist, the near non-existent room on the lean animal's back placing them both in an uncomfortably intimate position—and both were very well aware of this. Despite the rider's obvious beauty, Serana found it difficult to trust her, considering the last time she was recused led to this debacle in the first place. 

The two rode in silence, neither daring to speak to the other, either out of distrust or discomfort, though probably a bit of both. Still, a question nagged at the back of Serana's mind, one she couldn't shake. Eventually she spoke up, breaking the silence for the first time in almost an hour. “Why did you save me?”

She felt Alessia tense up at the question, seemingly shocked by the sudden interruption in the quiet, before glancing back at her, clearly thinking for a moment before responding. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Came her words from behind her face mask, a puff of foggy breath dissipating in the air in front of her face. She looked back to the road and continued. “The Thalmor have hurt countless innocent people, I find it difficult to suspect they're right when they accuse someone of something.”

Serana nodded, satisfied with the answer and falling silent once again. Although she intended to remain that way, content to simply listen to the birds as they awoke from their sleep, it seemed her partner was not quite as sated. “Why were they after you? The Thalmor.”

Once again silence fell over the two as she tried to decide how much to give away. Several seconds passed before she spoke up again, “I used to travel with someone they were interested in, they haven't left me alone ever since.”

Alessia gave a nod, adjusting the dig of her bag's strap against the side of her neck. “And so you're fighting them? Or was this just a fluke?” She shifted and tugged on the horse's reins, guiding it down the decline in the road. 

Serana bit her lower lip, mulling the question over. “A little of both. The ones you rescued me from just happened to show up at the worst time, but I have been hunting them.” She shrugged lightly, brushing her hands up a bit too high for either of their comfort. Refusing to acknowledge it, she continued, “They're not going to leave me alone.”

With a grunt of acknowledgement, the two returned to a now slightly tense silence just in time for the city to appear over the ridge of the stone path, partially obscured by trees but still very much present. To their right loomed Cloud Ruler Temple, a ghostly shell of its former glory.

* * *

 

**A**

Alessia watched as the temple disappeared once again from her peripheral vision, bringing herself back to guiding the horse. The fall of Cloud Ruler had marked the true end of the great Septim legacy, the Empire's elite burned out of their stronghold by those who sought to destroy that which they protected. 

And what had they been left with? The Penitus Oculatus, nothing more than another puppet of their great Altmer overlords. Alessia scoffed under her breath as they approached the gates, wide open and guarded by a pair of exhausted guardsmen—no doubt the previous night's shift, if their haggard appearances were anything to go by. 

She tugged gently on the reins, pressing her foot into her beast's side and guiding it to the stables. The stablemaster, certainly awake since the crack of dawn, gave Alessia a small nod. “A soldier?” He indicated the armor she wore and she gave a nod in return. It was hardly an uncommon question, especially around Bruma. “Then you can keep your mount here free of charge.” He smiled, holding out a hand to help the two down from the horse. 

“Thank you, sir. Your assistance is appreciated.” She put on a formal tone, pressing her fist to her chest in a salute, which he returned proudly. While his form told her that he'd certainly never served, his willingness to help made up for it tenfold in her mind. 

With that, they walked away, Serana in close tow and purposefully avoiding the gaze of several guards. While alone she would likely be drawing some more… intense attention from the many zealous officers, Alessia’s presence deterred them. While Imperial soldiers didn’t have technical authority in the cities, there was still an air of respect for them and their companions, especially considering that most guards in Bruma once fought the Stormcloaks in Skyrim.

“Where are we going?” Serana spoke up, wincing slightly as the sun broke the shadows over her pale face. Although Alessia had to admit her aversion was a bit suspect, it was hardly the strangest aversion she’d seen in her life, and considering the previous night’s events, she could hardly blame the woman for whatever headache she may have.

Alessia nodded her head to the stairs that led down to the lower district, just across from the pedestal that once housed the statue built in honor of the Hero of Kvatch after the defeat of the Daedra outside of the city. Much to the dismay of many Imperial citizens, it had been destroyed by a stray stone lobbed by an Aldmeri trebuchet during the Great War, and rumors swirled that the Thalmor had been suppressing efforts to rebuild it. “She should be just down there.” She paused, “If she's even awake, the lazy bitch.” Her words were mumbled, hoping that her travel mate hadn't heard her.

Silently the two descended, both keeping a watchful eye out for the promised Thalmor patrols. True to her word, however, the infamous black and gold of the inquisition was nowhere to be found and they reached the building without incident. 

The house had, almost 200 years ago, been the site of a gruesome murder, undoubtedly perpetrated by the Dark Brotherhood during their golden era within the province. For all those years it had changed a sparse number of hands between the superstitious and those interested in the Brotherhood. Ultimately it was purchased by Jannus Exports a short five years prior and turned into a regional office. 

Alessia shot Serana a look before pushing the door open, well oiled hinges gliding silently over one another. The door, impeccably maintained, shut behind them with no more than a small click. In the middle of the room sat a Dunmeri woman at a desk just in front of the fireplace, the flames playing at the edges of her form. She was dressed rather formally, though she didn't seem to be doing much other than sitting there and reading a book. Surrounding her was what appeared to be a waiting room. 

A small cough from Alessia caught the woman's attention and she glanced up, holding a clearly manufactured smile on her face for a fraction of a second before dropping it as she took note of who was standing there. “Ah, miss Alessia.” Her voice carried something of a tired weight to it as she addressed the visitors. “And who's this? This week's girlfriend or another client?” The woman's voice carried a very slight tease to it, though Alessia hardly seemed amused. 

“I'm really not in the mood for your shit right now, Alavesa. Is Isobel in?” Her voice was significantly tighter than usual and she was itching to get away from the rather rude receptionist. 

Alavesa nodded and jerked her head toward the stairs. “Yeah.” She mumbled, leaning back in her chair and retrieving her book from the desk. 

With a resigned sigh and a weary sagging of her shoulders, Alessia took to the stairs, listening to the careful footfalls of her companion on the worn wood behind her. As they reached the landing she paused, anticipating the question that was sure to come. 

“It sounds like you know each other.” Serana stated the obvious with a reserved smile tugging at her lips. Her strange eyes glinted with mild amusement, but it almost seemed as if she were trying to stop herself from expressing it. 

Alessia shrugged it off and nodded, glancing at the heavy door to the office across from them. “You could say that. I'm not exactly on great terms with anyone here.”

Beneath her hood, Serana's brow perked up curiously. “And that's supposed to make me feel better about this?”

With a wave of her hand the soldier began toward the office, leaving Serana to catch up after a moment's pause. “We manage to unite under the banner of telling the Thalmor to go fuck themselves.” She came to a stop at the door and reached for the door, pausing for a beat before pushing it open.

* * *

 

**S**

The two stepped into the well lit room, silent save for a soft hummed tune and the scratching of a quill that stopped the moment the door slid open. At the desk sat a woman clothed in a rather high-quality quilted jacket—suspiciously so for sitting in an office. On the table sat a neglected hat, upturned and teetering on the edge. 

At the sound of footsteps she looked up at the two with amber eyes. Suspiciously familiar amber eyes. As Serana took in the sight it dawned on her just who she was looking at. Alessia. Or at the very least, the spitting image of her, right down to the hairstyle. The differences were minute but after a bit of concentration she could make out a small scar across her nose and a slightly softer texture to her hair. Her eyes flitted between the two— clearly twins of the most identical kind.

This twin, this copy of her travel companion flashed a quick smile, opening her mouth to speak what would no doubt be a welcome before she locked eyes with her sister and her face fell to a tight-lipped annoyance. "Ah, Alessia. What do you want now?" She turned her attention to Serana, who dipped her head a bit further. "And who's this? Another girlfriend?"

"Oh come the…" Alessia sighed with a soft groan, rubbing her forehead. "Isobel, now isn't the time for this. I need to talk to—" 

Her attempt to sue for reason was cut short by Isobel, who kept her eyes on Serana. "You have no idea who you're getting involved with. She's the most greedy person you'll ever meet. You know, almost ten years ago I started wearing my hair like this and she stole it! She stole my damn hairstyle and hasn't changed it for ten years!" She seemed exasperated but this was clearly an issue she'd raised before if Alessia's weary glare was anything to go by. "And please, don't even start me on—"

"Isobel." Alessia pressed, gritting her teeth and pressing her hands to the surface of the desk. "Listen to—"

"Oh yes, listen to you. Listen to you what?"

"You—"

"Yes? Yes, Alessia, what am I?"

Serana took a step forward, her cloak dragging silently on the floor behind her. "I'm not her girlfriend, we're here to discuss something important. You need to listen to her." Her voice was characteristically reserved but the bickering was serving only to waste time—not to mention annoy her. 

Alessia's rather rude sister cut herself short as Serana spoke up and, after a moment's consideration, relaxed in her seat, locking her fingers together on the desk. "I apologize, to both of you. I should not have made assumptions. What is the problem, Alessia?"

The woman in question cast a thankful—if oddly pained— glance toward Serana, who returned it with a nod. She stepped forward, casting her gaze down to the fine wooden floors. Silence held itself over the room and Serans could feel the tension. Something seemed to be wrong, something far more than her problems with the Thalmor. Finally, she spoke, turning her attention to her sister and meeting her eye solemnly.

"They took Rusia, Isobel." Alessia's voice took on a rough and almost apologetic tone to it. By the way Isobel's face twisted in a familiar horror, this was very bad news. The woman behind the desk nearly leapt to her feet and Serana stepped back in anticipation of a physical confrontation between the two, watching passively as she stalked around the desk to approach a retreating Alessia.

"You…" Isobel's voice was outright shaking. "Let them…" She cut herself off with a shout and sprung from her feet, attempting to tackle her sister, though her lean frame was hardly enough to take the physique of a soldier and she was easily held back, though Alessia almost seemed as if she was considering letting go. "You let them take Rusia!" She screamed, her teary and choked voice no doubt carried beyond the building, and the footsteps of the woman's secretary approaching the room interrupted the sounds of the struggle across the room.

As the door swung open, Serana stepped to the side and caught it, holding it open for the shorter mer to duck under her arm. They locked eyes for a moment and she drew her lips into a tight line. "Tell Alessia I'll be waiting downstairs for her." Serana spoke her request almost wearily, hardly waiting for confirmation before stepping out and letting the door shut behind her, leaving the scuffle behind.


End file.
